


Mission Accomplished

by Carrogath



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:59:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2439353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carrogath/pseuds/Carrogath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after the defeat of Zaheer, Mako goes out to lunch with Asami and tries desperately to not screw it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission Accomplished

The request that Asami makes is sudden— _lunch on Saturday at Hanzo’s at noon_ —but Mako is all too happy to oblige with her request. It’s not a date, of course, so there’s no need to feel awkward. It’s lunch with a friend at a time when they seem even busier than they were when they had to the world from three major threats in succession. First there was Amon, then Unalaq, then Zaheer and the Red Lotus, and nowadays the only enemy is civil unrest. He’s amazed that Future Industries is still going strong in spite of the Earth Kingdom riots, but from what little he knows it looks like most of Asami’s major clients come from the Fire Nation and within Republic City. She has the personality to run a company, he thinks: punctual, adaptable, charismatic. He finds his mind straying to some fantasy of investigating the white-collar crimes of one of her corrupt clients, only to find that the RCPD isn’t willing to listen, that the issue lies much deeper…

“Mako. Hey, Mako!”

Asami waves from one of the outdoor tables in the corner, flanked by a neat little wooden grating at her back and to her left. The tablecloths are bleached white; the napkins are green to match with the seat cushions. Mako spots a tall potted plant standing guard in the space behind her, and keeps an eye on it as he approaches the table, as though it might spring to life at any time.

He smiles, a little tightly, and takes a seat. He hunches on impulse, steeples his fingers a little. “Hey, Asami. How’s it going?” He goes over the delivery in his head: too casual? Not casual enough? He’s almost certain she can feel how tense he is, but she doesn’t betray it, and he can’t figure out whether he likes or hates that part of her.

“Good, good. Future Industries has been doing great…” She rattles off a quick spiel choked by business jargon; Mako can understand maybe fifty percent of what she’s saying, if not less. She speaks with the same sort of fluid Republic City character that she uses when talking to a potential client, easy but clearly practiced and aimed to convince, impress, and ingratiate. “But that stuff probably bores you, huh?”

Mako grins despite himself. “Not at all. I’d rather hear good news from you than bad news,” because the last time I heard bad news we ended up dating, again, even though I was supposed to be dating someone else, again, Mako thinks, and shoves the thought back into the dark recesses of his mind where hopefully it will not emerge for the rest of their conversation.

“You?”

Three years after the fall of Ba Sing Se meant, among other things, an increasing flood of Earth Kingdom refugees to Republic City. More people—more desperate people—means more crime no matter what. He strains to keep the frustration out of his voice; not everyone’s a fan of Kuvira’s aggressive political policies, and from Bolin’s anecdotes he knows her to be unyielding and almost authoritarian in her practices, wholly convinced that her way is the right way, without an ounce of consideration for possible alternatives. His thoughts flit to Korra, briefly, and by the time he finishes delivering his reports, he can tell that Asami is thinking about her, too. Normally at this point people would be looking to the Avatar for guidance, but for them, the Avatar is nowhere to be found.

The waiter walks over and takes their orders, and for a few brief moments Mako enjoys the silence between them.

“You hear anything from Korra lately?” Asami asks, almost out of courtesy. She already knows the answer.

Mako shakes his head. “No, you?”

Asami pauses—a dead giveaway—and replies, “Nope. Not a word.”

He sighs, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes. _Girls_. He’s sure he isn’t interested in whatever Korra had to say to Asami, anyway. He’s long given up on understanding either of them; detective as he is, he’s resigned himself to the fact that there are some things he will never know.

“I miss her, though,” she continues, deliberately prolonging the conversation. “Three years is a long time not to see somebody.”

“Yeah,” he says, frankly. “I do too.” They’ve said it before; they’ll say it again. Despite their misgivings, Korra and her problems were the one thing they could both rally behind, the glue keeping Team Avatar together. Mako has always had his brother’s back, but Asami is different. Without Korra, there was no reason for them to keep seeing each other. Even now, even today, the only reason they’re seeing each other is because Asami misses the sense of belonging to something else. She’s overworked and lonely, and Mako hates that the thought excites him, hates that he think he has a chance with her again. He screwed up; he knows she doesn’t want him; if they ever got together again it’d be a temporary reprieve for her and not a long-term relationship.

Asami goes quiet again.

Mako searches her expression; her face is half-hidden by her fringe, but she looks sad—anxious, maybe. Korra is scheduled to arrive in two months and she’s not even anticipating it; she’s already there, ready to save the world again instead of being buried beneath piles of legal paperwork and minutes of pointless meetings, the day-to-day toll that comes with running one of the foremost companies in Republic City. She’s part-engineer, part-businesswoman, attends both the technical meetings and the financial ones, goes over the drafts as well the accounting and puts on loads of makeup to hide the fact that she gets about as much sleep on a good day as Mako does on a bad one. He wants to do something, but he can’t think of anything that wouldn’t put her in a worse place than she already is.

He leans back into his chair and sighs, heavily. His eyes follow Asami as she springs up again.

She stutters an apology. “S-sorry. Future Industries might be doing well, but that doesn’t mean I get out of doing work.”

He waves it off. “Nah, I get it.” We’re the same age, after all, he thinks. She doesn’t deserve the amount of work that she’s getting, at her age; she deserves to enjoy herself. Mako folds and unfolds his hands, cogs whirring in the back of his mind, desperate to come up with something that wouldn’t ruin his relationship with her forever. Their friendship is already so fragile, and he isn’t willing to take his chances, doesn’t want to come off as needy or even the least bit interested in her, and so he thinks, thinks, thinks.

It’s been years, and all the bad karma they’ve built up between them is killing him. _Be a man, Mako_ , he can recall his grandmother telling him. _Be a man, and do the right thing._

“Hey, Asami,” he says again, looking at her.

She nods. “Hm?”

“I have this… ticket,” although he doesn’t have it on him, it’s lying around his apartment somewhere, probably stashed as a bookmark in one of his dozens of notebooks, “for a special screening of Nuktuk at City Theater next Sunday. I was gonna see it with Bolin, but it turns out I don’t have the time,” he lies through his teeth. “Police work, you know. So I was wondering if maybe you could go with him, instead? Opal won’t be able to make it either, so it’s either you or no one.”

She looks surprised. “Oh,” she says, “but I have to—”

He coughs, loudly. “Now that I think about it, he did mention to me how long it’s been since you’ve seen each other, and he really misses talking to you. I’m sure it would take a lot off his mind if you agreed to meet with him.”

Her brows crease, and a smile tugs at her lips, reluctant. “Next Sunday?”

“Next Sunday.”

“All right. I’ll take the day off. Tell your brother to expect me instead of you—I wouldn’t want to surprise him.”

His entire body slouches with relief.

“And thank you, Mako.” She smiles, for real this time, and he can feel his chest twist in all sorts of funny ways.

The rest of their lunch date is carefree and relaxed, if not a bit quieter than usual. Asami eats with all the fastidiousness of a woman raised on a private estate and Mako tries not to make a fool of himself in front of her. She’s so eager to pay for the both of them that Mako has to insist splitting the check; he has a salary, he can afford it. She looks reluctant, and for a few ridiculous moments Mako wonders if he made the wrong decision as he slaps down his bills onto the table.

“Thanks for offering, though,” he adds. “I appreciate it, but I think you’ve got enough to worry about.”

He thanks her again as they part ways, and the first thing he does when he gets home is sit at his desk, where his phone is, and let his forehead with the full force of his upper body slam into the polished surface. “Be a man, Mako,” he growls to himself, letting his fingernails sink into the veneer, “do the right thing…”

The second thing he does is call Bolin.

“Hellooo, Bolin speaking. Or were you expecting the mighty Nuktu—”

“Hey, bro? We got a change of plans…”


End file.
